


The Queen and her Bear

by notherhappyending



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Contest Entry, F/F, Femslash, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4102750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notherhappyending/pseuds/notherhappyending
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reversal of a Beauty and the Beast trope featuring Brienne and Cersei. Cersei thinks that Brienne is in love with Jaime and sets out to teach her a lesson. However, Brienne is only close to Jaime because of unresolved feelings for Cersei.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cersei I

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just for fun.

“You aren’t going to like this....” The small Northern girl whimpered, her large eyes blinking quickly out of fear. “… my queen.”

The child’s head twitched as she quickly added on the forgotten formality at the end. If Cersei was in a better mood, she might consider making a scene for the girl’s sake. It was always better to teach the lesson sooner rather than later and she usually could gain some level of enjoyment from making the serving girls squirm. Instead, Cersei took another sip of the dark red liquid that both refreshed and numbed her. 

“Well?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly, conveying clear irritation that sent the dark-haired youth into a panic. 

“I’m so sorry, my queen.” She shook her head quickly with an interesting combination of fear and shame expressed upon her face. “I saw something.”

“I gathered.” Cersei rolled her eyes before sighing into her goblet.

“It’s…” The girl stopped. 

“Speak, child.” She relinquished her goblet onto the table and rose to move toward the Northern serving girl. “If it is so important, than stop wasting my time.”

“Yes, my queen.” Raising her head slightly, she met Cersei’s eyes for the first time. “It’s Ser Jaime.”

“What about him?” This question was laced with more passion and defence than Cersei had meant to convey. Though it had been awhile since she had seen him, he held a special place in her heart. He was her other half, though a world away. Though she strived to keep her passions for him cloaked, it was moments like this where it got the best of her.

“I’m so sorry, my queen. But I’ve heard some rumours from the other girls. They say that some knights told them that Ser Jaime has been awfully close to someone… unfit for him.”

“Who?” Cersei placed a firm grip on the small girl’s shoulder, putting pressure down. “Tell me the name of the wench.” 

“My queen…” The girl tried to shrink away but was stopped by the Cersei’s restraint. “It’s… Ser Brienne.”

“Ser… Brienne?” Cersei let the serving girl go as a wave of laughter came billowing from her lungs. She took several steps back, hardly registering what she had just heard. The comical nature of this gossip was too grand to be anything real or to worry about. Her golden brother would never look twice at a monstrosity of a woman like Brienne. And, the fact that this Northern whelp had referred to her as “Ser Brienne” was too much to bear. She needed another goblet of wine. Hell, she needed another bottle of wine.

“My queen.” The girl tittered, tilting her head in confusion. “Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, naïve summer child.” Cersei cackled. “You come here in fear to tell me that my dear brother is hibernating with a bear and expect me to believe you?”

“But-“

“I should have your head for such slander if it were not so ridiculous.”

“My queen.” The girl suddenly straightened up, icy in resolve. “This is no joke. She has her heart set on Ser Jaime, it is clear by how close she stays to his side and they often are seen up late with wine, just talking and laughing.”

“Is this true?” Cersei paused, suddenly unsure. 

“It must be.” The girl nodded. “I have heard the tale from several sources.”

“Well.” Cersei straightened once again, the jovial smile vacating her face. “Then, send for the bear at once.”

“Who?” 

“The wench who thinks she has a shot with my brother.” Cersei returned to her seat to pour another goblet of wine. “I intend to teach her a lesson that she will not soon forget.”

“Yes, my queen.”


	2. Brienne I

It had been a very long time since Brienne had been to King’s Landing. She recalled her father bringing here back in the days when he had still believed that she would one day be courted by one of the finer lords. That thought left a sour taste in her mouth as she knew now, as she had always known, that this was not the case. Betrothals and courting were meant for pretty girls with delicate faces who donned dresses as naturally as if they had been born wearing them. Brienne had always looked like an awkward boy-child playing dress-up in his mother’s gowns. The life of a noble lady would never be hers. 

Brienne clutched the message that a raven had brought her in earnest. She had no idea why Queen Cersei required her presence, but it excited nonetheless. After spending countless nights drinking and laughing with Jaime, she had come to know so much about his female counterpart. The stories were laced with so much familiarity that Brienne felt that she already knew her intimately. Though their paths had crossed in earlier years, they had never formally been acquainted. Yet, the tall woman had always been fascinated by Cersei and the way she commanded the attention of the entire room. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back like tiny threads of the finest gold and only upstaged by the brilliant emerald of her piercing eyes. Brienne had seen this reflected in Jaime and, occasionally, she had shamefully imagined that her male drinking companion was, in fact, his sister.

These thoughts were a shameful secret that she harboured. From the first time she had laid eyes on Cersei, she had been enamoured. The feelings had been so wrong that she had strived to go to extremes to deny them, She had sworn allegiance to Renly Baratheon and Catelyn Stark to distance herself from the Lannister girl who haunted memories of childhood events. That had proven successful until Jaime came along.

Suddenly, she had been face-to-face with the male version of the girl of her childhood shame. At first, she had reacted in hostility but he wore down her defences and fed the crush that she had bottled up for so long. She wanted to be close to Jaime because that meant being close to his sister. It meant being on her side and protecting her family’s interest. It promised untainted stories of the true Cersei. It was the closest she thought that she would ever be to the untouchable queen. However, that was all changing.

Queen Cersei had sent for Brienne. When Jaime had given her the note, her heart had risen to her throat and words were nowhere to be found. With no context or explanation, the regent wanted her presence. Perhaps, she thought, the queen needed a personal protector or someone close to her to protect her? Maybe Cersei recognized her abilities and wanted her close to Kings Landing?

Brienne had to push away thoughts of how close they could become in her hypothetical scenario. She was, first and foremost, a knight. Emotions were second to duty. Years of unresolved desire were threatening to overcome her barriers and she needed to get them under control. The regent clearly had a reason to call for her and she could not be distracted by anything else. This was the chance that she had been waiting for. This was the first time that she would see Cersei in a long time. As the knight of the King’s Guard escorted throw the Red Keep, she tried to mentally prepare herself. As he opened the door, she realized that this was a futile attempt.

“My Queen…” Her breath left her as she fell to her knees in wonder. Jaime’s blonde and green seemed watered down in comparison to his fair sister.

“Rise.” Cersei’s command was harsh.

“Anything, my queen.”

“Leave us.” She dismissed the knight with her free hand, the other being engaged with a goblet of wine. 

“Why have you sent for me, my queen?” Brienne asked earnestly, finally regaining her breath.

“I have heard some things about you and your passions.”

“What…” Brienne’s eyes opened wide, taken aback by this. “How… how do you know?”

“I know everything about my family, including my brother.”

“I’m sorry, my queen, I don’t follow.”

“Your pathetic feelings for my brother.” She scoffed at this. 

“Ser Jaime? He is but a friend, my queen.”

“I have heard otherwise and I am displeased.”

“Cersei, I… that’s not true.”

“You WILL call me Queen Cersei.” Her voice rose and Brienne took a step back in both awe and fear. 

“I assure you, I have no romantic passions for Ser Jaime.”

“I presume that you would claim that in my presence regardless of the truth.” Cersei took another sip from her goblet, her lips lingering on it just long enough to draw Brienne’s attention. 

“My queen, I am loyal to you and your family, that is all.”

“Well, you shall have a chance to prove that loyalty and atone for your trespasses, whether real or just your intent, against me.”

“Anything, my queen.”

“You will serve me as one of my ladies.”


	3. Cersei II

Cersei relished in the look of utter shame that danced across the comically large woman’s face as she revealed her punishment. Stripping Brienne of her adopted role as a knight and her claim to subverting the gendered normalcies of the castle was such a delightful thing to behold. 

“But, my queen…” Brienne started to object, finding her voice again. “I am hardly fit to be one of your ladies.”

“Not dressed like that.” Cersei choked back a laugh with a sip of wine. 

“I am more useful to you on the battlefield. I am better with a sword than a brush. Please, my queen.”

“Begging does not befit a lady of your birth.” Cersei turned away from the woman now. “You are Lady Brienne of Tarth. If you want to whore after my brother, you should at least have the decency to be a woman about it. But, what would you know of that? I hear you were awfully close to the wretched communion between Ser Loras and the false king, Renly.”

“My queen…” Brienne hobbled backwards at this, berated on multiple levels and seemingly unsure how to respond.

“I have wasted enough time on this.” Cersei placed her goblet on the window sill and turned around to once again face her captive. “I will grant you an afternoon to wash and cleanse yourself of this man-filth you smother yourself in, but I expect that you will be wearing a dress when you draw my bath this evening.”

“But, my qu-“

“You will do as I say.” 

“Yes, my queen.”

Cersei then clapped to signal to the attendants outside that her conversation had concluded. Two young women in plain dresses took Brienne by either hand and led her out of the queen’s sight. It was almost funny to see the size difference between the two small adolescent serving girls, gifts from Highgarden, and the towering bear of Tarth. 

From behind, Brienne’s tall strong physique clad in silver armour and dirty blonde hair were almost reminiscent of Jamie if he had been out in the wild for weeks on end without access to any water to bathe in. Realizing this, Cersei suddenly felt incredibly lonely. Tommen was always off playing tag with Margaery or some of her attendants and Myrcella was a world away in Dorne. She might even miss the boar of a man that she married at this point. With Robert, she could drink enough to numb her mind, close her eyes, and think of Jamie. 

Her thoughts cycling to Jamie brought things back to considering Brienne. She wanted to punish the wench that thought that she could steal her golden twin, but she could not help but feel lonely for the company of another. In a drunken haze, ungracefully forced upon her by the wine that she barely even recalled drinking, she wondered if Brienne’s masculine body would feel similar to Jamie’s under the sheets of a bed in the dark of night.

Immediately, Cersei slammed her hand on the table in front of her. These thoughts were ridiculous and she hated herself for even entertaining them. Drunk or not, she was a queen and that bear of a woman was nothing more than a traitorous bitch that needed to be taught a lesson. The shame that followed her thoughts of Brienne as a surrogate for Jamie festered all afternoon and she took out this frustration on everyone in her path. 

She went through a mental list of potential suitors in the castle that she could take out this anger and humiliation on. Yet, with Taena on some familial duties and Jamie so far away, she found herself alone until Brienne appeared to attend to her bathing.


	4. Cersei III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne is forced to undress Cersei.

“My queen.” The tall woman forced the words out, clearly struggling to carry herse body eloquently in the dress that she is now wearing. Even though she looks uncomfortable and awkward in the gown, the simple blue fabric is not horrendous on her. It looks no worse than her manly armour. 

“Lady Brienne.” Cersei smirked. “I see you found a dress large enough to accommodate you.”

Brienne bowed her head in reply which Cersei interprets as shame. She prided herself on how well her plan was unfurling. It was almost too easy to torture the brutish girl, who came from years of unrelenting teasing. Even Cersei had heard the tales of “Brienne the Beauty” and her failures to assimilate into society. She might have almost deigned to pity the woman if not for her trespasses. There is only so much that a queen could forgive and moves against her family were not one. Jamie belonged to no one except her. She had claimed her golden brother in all but the eyes of the law. For this, Cersei would make her pay. The fighting of men is messy and brutal, but that of women is so much more damaging. Cersei had spent her entire life refining her claws. Now, she was prepared to tear Brienne’s pride apart.

“Well, come here.” She snapped. “Make yourself useful.”

Brienne slowly moved towards her as Cersei gestured at her own red gown in frustration. She realized now that she probably could have forced Brienne to run the water upstairs to fill the tub. Her muscles would have made easy work of the task. But, she thought, that would have been a more masculine task that the woman might have been more comfortable fulfilling. It was much more satisfying to make her squirm. 

Brienne hesitated as her hands lingered over the cords that laced up Cersei’s dress. She could hear the tall woman’s breath slipping out in jagged intervals as she began to clumsily fumble with the strands. Cersei stood, she was impatient but enjoying the other woman’s pain. 

As Brienne worked with the garment to negotiate Cersei’s freedom, her hands occasionally brushed against the queen’s pale skin. In these moments, Cersei could not help but acknowledge the surprising softness of Brienne’s hands. She would expect them to be calloused and rough, as Jamie’s had always been. Instead, the Maid of Tarth had mild hands. In the moments where they met the flesh on Cersei’s back, she felt the other woman flinch. It was as though she had never known the feeling of touching skin. 

As Brienne finally bested Cersei’s garment, the dress fell free. It pooled at Cersei’s feet and she gracefully stepped away from it. She turned around to make eye contact. The brutish woman’s face was red as she realized that she was looking upon the naked body of her queen. Cersei was pleased that she had not bothered with undergarments on this particular day. Brienne’s discomfort was a beautiful sight to behold.

“What?” Cersei chuckled. “Well. I suppose you’ve never seen a naked woman before.”

Brienne looked away quickly in response to Cersei’s jab about her own form. Cersei waited for the shorthaired woman to look up again. When she did, her face was still bright red. It seemed as though she was more embarrassed than ashamed. Cersei did not know what to make of this, though it brought her some discomfort.

“What are you waiting for, Brienne the Beauty?” She twisted the words into Brienne’s pride. “My gown is worth more than your life. Pick it up.”


End file.
